Mirths of society; when petty mushrooms, Transplanted from their dunghills, spread on mountains, And pass for cedars by their servile flatteries Liv. Add any thing of reason. Troy. Castamela, Thy beauteous sister, like a precious tissue, Though in herself all wonder. Come, I'll tell thee: A way there may be-(know, I love thee, Livio-) To fix this jewel in a ring of gold, Yet lodge it in a cabinet of ivory, White, pure, unspotted ivory: put case, Livio himself shall keep the key on't? Liv. Oh, sir, Create me what you please of yours; do this, Troy. Be then pliable To my first rules of your advancement. ----[Enter OCTAVIO.]-See! Octavio, my good uncle, the great marquis Oct. My bosom's secretary, My dearest, best loved nephew. 5 Troy. We have been thirsty Oct. Gladly welcome; Your own worth is a herald to proclaim it. The chief provisor of our horse. Liv. Your bounty Stiles me your ever servant. Troy. He's our own; Surely, nay most persuadedly. My thanks, sir, Owes to this just engagement. Oct. Slack no time [Aside to Ост. To enter on your fortunes. -Thou art careful, My Troylo, in the study of a duty. His name is ? Troy. Livio. Liv. Livio, my good lord. speedy, Oct. Again, you're welcome to us:-be as [Apart to TROYLO. Dear nephew, as thou'rt constant. Men of parts, Fit parts and sound, are rarely to be met with; But being met with, therefore to be cherish'd 5 We have been thirsty In our pursuit.] i. e, sharp, eager, active. With love and with supportance. While I stand, Livio can no way fall;-yet, once more, welcome! [Exit. Troy. An honourable liberality, That pays some shares, in all? A younger bro ther, Sometimes an elder, not well trimm'd i' th' head piece, May spend what his friend left, in expectation gary! What thinks my Livio of this rise at first? Liv. It seems the bargain Was driv'n before between you. And to that painted arras, for a nod,] The 4to reads, "And to their painted arras for a need," which I do not understand. Troylo is evidently congratulating Livio on his entering at once into the good graces of his lord, without stooping (as was too frequently the case) to the meanness of flattering the proud and formal domestics of his patron's establishment, the steward, gentleman-usher, &c. If the reader prefers need to nod, I see no great objection. Cup and knee," I doubt not, should be "cap and knee," as we have it in the Sun's Darling: it was not usual to present the cup kneeling to any but princes. Troy. 'Twas, and nothing Could void it, but the peevish resolution Without a living to't. Liv. I must resolve To turn my sister whore? speak a home-word A trifle in respect to present means; Troy. Be yet more confident; the slavery Of such an abject office shall not tempt Liv. May it prove so! [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Street. Enter SECCO, with a casting bottle, sprinkling his hat and face, and a little looking-glass at his girdle;" setting his countenance. Sec. Admirable! incomparably admirable! to be the minion, the darling, the delight of love; 'tis a very tickling to the marrow, a kissing ỉ' th' 1 Stand ingenious To thine own fate.] i. e. labour to forward the plans of fortune by thy own dexterity, &c. • With a casting bottle.] A small phial for perfumes, sweet blood, a bosoming the extacy, the rapture of virginity, soul and paradise of perfection, ah!— pity of generation, Secco, there are no more such men. Enter SPADONE. Spa. Oyes! if any man, woman, or beast, have found, stolen, or taken up a fine, very fine male barber, of the age of above or under eighteen, more or less Sec. Spadone, hold; what's the noise ? Spa. Umph! pay the cryer. I have been almost lost myself in seeking you; here's a letter fromSec. Whom, whom, my dear Spadone? whom? Spa. Soft and fair! an you be so brief, I'll return it whence it came, or look out a new owner. -Oyes! Sec. Low, low! what dost mean? is't from the glory of beauty, Morosa, the fairest fair? be gentle to me; here's a ducat: speak low, prithee. Spa. Give me one, and take t'other: 'tis from the party. (Gives him the letter.) Golden news, believe it. Sec. Honest Spadone! divine Morosa! [Reads. Spa. Fairest fair, quoth'a! so is an old rotten coddled mungrel, parcel bawd, parcel midwife; all the marks are quite out of her mouth; not the stump of a tooth left in her head, to mumble the waters, &c., which, in Ford's time, were in more general use than at present. For the fashion of wearing mirrors at the girdle, and in the hat, see Massinger, vol. iv. p. 8. and Jonson, vol. ii. p. 263. |